


New Kid on the Block

by asanoyasses (Kaffee)



Series: The Malec AU no one asked for [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shadowhunter Chronicles Fusion, Keith is Alec, Lance is Magnus, M/M, Malec AU, Multi, Shadowhunter!Keith, Shadowhunter!Shiro, Vampire!Hunk, Warlock!Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 00:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaffee/pseuds/asanoyasses
Summary: A Klance Malec AULance has put up with a lot over the years, but one little kitten might shake things up.





	New Kid on the Block

**Author's Note:**

> Does not follow the plot of Shadowhunters, series or books, and will not really be a chronological series. I’ll just add to it when I have stuff written! Any suggestions and requests for certain scenarios will always be welcome!
> 
> As stated, this is a Shadowhunters AU! Previous knowledge will help immensely but I’ll try to spell things out as much as possible. (I also just recommend getting into Shadowhunters it’s choice.)
> 
> To break it down, even though not everyone is in this first installment:
> 
> -Lance is a warlock, and is High Warlock of the area this is set in. Allura is High Warlock of her own region and will come in later; Coran and Romelle are also warlocks and work in Allura’s employ.
> 
> -Hunk and the Balmerans are vampires (partially because of the irony of only being able to drink blood and not being able to stomach actual food, but Lance is a Good Friend and gives Hunk supplements so he can eat actual food.)
> 
> -Shiro, Keith, and the Holts are Shadowhunters. Shiro and Keith are Parabatai and their bond will be explained later on.
> 
> -The Galra are both werewolves and demons, and the mermaids and Queen Luxia are Fey. They will all make an appearance eventually.

The aura of hesitation lingering in the hallway is what makes Lance drop his book and flick his wrist in the direction of the door. He smiles as it opens to reveal Hunk hovering on the threshold, fist poised to knock. The vampire grins nervously back at Lance.

“It's still weird that you know when I'm here, man.”

Lance shrugs. “I've had a lot of practice over the years.” He uncrosses his legs and stands as Hunk closes the door behind him.

“At least I have my nose to help me out, you just... know.” Hunk graciously accepts the Bloody Mary handed to him. “Do you already know why I'm here, too, or does my visit actually serve a purpose?”

“Depends!” Lance calls from the den; Hunk twirls around to face the curtain closing the den off from the rest of the penthouse, certain that he had seen the warlock disappear into the kitchen, “If your visit was to say hi then I most likely knew in advance. I may be centuries old and slightly magical but I'm not psychic, so I would not mind a background story for today.” Lance pushes the curtain back with a flourish and reenters the living room with a small drawstring bag in hand.

“’Slightly magical,’ he says, handing me a bag full of pixie essence so I can actually consume something other than blood for once,” Hunk retorts, carefully placing the bag in the pocket of his jacket. He smiles over at Lance, though, and takes a swig from his drink as Lance does the same with his own glass of whatever his poison is for the evening. They sit in silence for a minute before Hunk sighs.

“Finally,” Lance groans.

“The Institute is under new management,” Hunk explains, ignoring the dramatic eye roll from the warlock across from him, “He's a pretty chill guy, I've heard, he's actually lobbying for new relationships between the Downworld and the Clave-“

“You mean his Institute. The Clave will never want anything to do with us,” Lance retorts, “You know that, right?”

Hunk shrugs. “I don't really know, to be honest. Rax is hesitant but Shay wants the clan to meet with the new head of the Institute just to see what he says. Lance,” he cuts off the complaint he knows is about to come from the other, “’Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule.’”

Lance lets out a long and dramatic sigh. “Why do you always pull Buddha on me, man?” He shakes his head in disbelief but can't help returning Hunk's smile.

“As High Warlock, you’ll be the one he wants to see as a representative so keep an eye out for any fire messages from the Shadowhunters. We don't know what will happen, Lance, but maybe this guy can make a difference for once.”

Lance pulls his gaze away from Hunk and stands again, hands on his hips. The Clave, the Shadowhunters, have done him no favors in his centuries of life but he has his own people to care for.

“Fine. But just for the Downworld. Shadowhunters won't suddenly become my best friends, though.”

Hunk shrugs. “Good. That title is all mine, anyway.”

-

Hunk's visit is right on time, because Lance wakes to a fire message laid on his coffee table two days later. The vampire and his clan leaders had met with the new Shadowhunter leader the same night he had visited and told Lance they believed the new unions would bring about serious change among the entire Shadow World.

Lance will have to see for himself, so he dresses in his custom with a shimmery suit and crystals around his neck and opens a portal to the Institute. He is greeted by two Shadowhunters who welcome him with stiff, short nods of their heads and walk him towards the main hall. The building itself is concealed behind a glamour that rests on an old mansion on the edge of town; it’s been there for several decades, ever since the old Institute’s hiding spot had been condemned by a demon attack. The house is a historical landmark, protected by the Clave’s influence over the city.

Lance thinks it’s too old-fashioned, but his tastes are superior to Shadowhunters’ after all.

The main hall is in the foyer, Victorian-styled architecture and ugly wallpaper hidden mostly behind a network of computers, televisions, holograms, and weapon racks. Shadowhunters clad in black and leather wander around the area, speaking in low voices to each other or clicking away on keyboards. Lance has only been to the Institute a handful of times in recent years and the stuffy air hasn’t changed; Shadowhunters really need to learn how to let loose.

He is guided to a war room that is closed off from the main hall by a wall of windows. There is a small gathering of Hunters standing around a long glowing table, a hologram of the piers at the edge of the city pulled up. The glass doors are pulled open by the two leading him and Lance steps inside the room with a click of his shoes. A tall Hunter, broad and muscular with short hair and a scar on his face, looks up at the intrusion and smiles at Lance, uncrossing his arms and reaching one out for a handshake.

“Mr. McClain, it’s an honor,” he greets; Lance raises an eyebrow in appreciation and shakes his hand; he notices then that the man’s right arm is metal beneath his tight sleeve, the fingers on his hand reflecting the blue light of the hologram lit up on the table beside them.

“Likewise,” he returns, “Obviously you know who I am, do I get the pleasure of learning your name?”

The Hunter laughs shortly, taking his hand back. “Takashi Shirogane, I’m the new director for this Institute. You can call me Shiro, though. I was transferred from Yokohama recently and was asked by the Clave to take over this location.”

Lance smiles in return. “Well, Shiro,” he purrs, enjoying the amused smile that crosses the man’s face, “Welcome. I will entrust the well-being of this institute to your hands. I hope I’m not disappointed.” The amicable gaze they share is cut off by a short growl and another Hunter stepping between them, a hand on a glimmering Seraph blade at his hip.

Lance steps backward, chin held still and hands clasped behind his back, not rising to the threat. The Hunter is just about his height, with a lean but firm build and long, wild black hair; runes litter the bare upper halves of his arms and flow up to his neck and along his jaw. Lance can see the edge of a Parabatai mark on his right shoulder and wonders briefly who was brave enough to match runes with this guy. He levels the Hunter with an amused stare.

“Shiro is more than capable, warlock,” the other man spits, eyes flashing dangerously, “Don’t you dare insult him.” Lance blinks at the pulse of something that flows towards him in the wake of the Hunter’s anger. Odd.

“No harm intended, kitten,” he chooses to say, relishing in the shocked flush that instantly colors the other’s cheeks, “Forgive me if I’m hesitant to trust you Hunters, given our… interesting history.”

Shiro speaks up then, slicing through the tension that had laid itself between Lance and the Hunter; he rests his flesh hand on the bare shoulder in front of him. “Keith, it’s okay, I can handle this.”

Keith levels Lance with another glare, his cheeks still wonderfully red, but steps aside, hand still resting on the hilt of his Seraph blade. The warlock watches him with a steady smirk before turning back to Shiro, who is still smiling cordially at him.

“Now, shall we get started with this meeting?”

-

The meeting drags, Lance leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs as he spares every glance he can at Keith, who sits across from him with his arms crossed and a glare pinching his brows. The act would get on Lance’s nerves if it weren’t for the aura of attraction that he can feel underlying every move Keith makes. It’s cute. Lance doesn’t let it distract him from the propositions that Shiro making, though, and has to concede that the man’s plans to adjust the current agreements in the region – making it so that the Shadowhunters will be just as much indebted to the Downworlders in the case of war – are some of the best that the warlock has heard in at least a century.

Lance turns his head to the director finally and flashes a gentle smile. “My best friend is part of the vampire clans. He spoke very highly of you, and I’ll admit I’m impressed.” He doesn’t miss the way Keith’s lips twitch into a tiny smirk at the admission. “I’m not easily impressed anymore, considering how long I’ve been around. There are only so many ideas and politics one can hear before it gets old. I won’t say I haven’t heard any of this before but it has never been said by someone with any ounce of potential in him.”

Shiro squares his shoulders and laces his fingers together on the desk, matching Lance’s stare. Keith leans forward as well, though Lance can also see his Stele held loosely in his fingers: a gentle threat.

“I want you to promise me that the potential I see in you is worth my time. I may have a lot of it, but it’s very precious to me.” Lance still watches Shiro, observes how his frame tightens and his eyes shine with determination.

“I wouldn’t dream of wasting your time, Mr. McClain,” he assures.

“Please, just Lance is fine.”

Shiro nods. “Lance, then. I will do everything in my power to not disappoint you.” He shares a look with Keith, familiar smiles shared. “Many important people to me are Downworlders and deserve every courtesy that has been laid on Shadowhunters as well.”


End file.
